


Santa Magic

by fatalchild



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-04
Updated: 2020-02-04
Packaged: 2021-02-22 13:00:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22563793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fatalchild/pseuds/fatalchild
Summary: Jack only wants one thing for Christmas, but the only person he'll tell is Santa. Too bad Santa doesn't exist. Angels would know if Santa existed... right?Written for the2019 Lucifer Advent
Relationships: Castiel & Jack Kline, Castiel & Lucifer (Supernatural), Jack Kline & Lucifer
Comments: 2
Kudos: 29





	Santa Magic

Jack stretched up on his toes, straining to see past the crowd of people and the long line of gathering children. He craned his neck, stretching this way and that until he caught a glimpse of red.

"I saw him! I saw him!" Jack cried, tugging on his father's hand. "Did you see? Do you think it's really him?"

"It certainly looks like him," Lucifer said.

In truth, he sensed nothing special about the old man. While it was entirely possible that his father had made some magical Christmas spirit, was just a human in a costume, not a drop of magic in his blood, but with Jack vibrating with excitement at his side, Lucifer didn't have the heart to say it.

"Do you think he'll bring what I ask for?" Jack asked.

"What are you going to ask for?"

"I told you." Jack's little face drooped into a serious frown. "I can't tell you or it won't come true."

"Maybe, but you know, buddy, I actually have a lot of powers of my own," Lucifer said. "So if I knew--"

Jack cut his father off with a melodramatic sigh. "That's archangel magic, Daddy. I need Santa magic."

"Right, so it's not just like a new bike or anything." Jack answered with the same scrunched up frown, and Lucifer sighed. "Right. Okay."

They shuffled up through the line for the next forty-five minutes, Jack seeming to gain more energy with each step. When the woman wearing green and red stripes with latex tips on her ears, Jack gave a joyous bounce that almost saw the top of his head clear the height of his father's waist. Almost. He held up his hands and reminded Lucifer to please stand back so he didn't hear anything and ruin the Santa magic, and Lucifer nodded and went to stand next to the man selling photos. He raised his eyebrows at the price, but then they showed him the sample shot of Jack leaning up to whisper in Santa's ear, cupping one hand around his mouth while giving the camera a rather conspiratorial look. Lucifer shook his head and bought two copies.

The next week passed in a blur. They had to set a tree up in their house and decorate it with flashing lights and colorful bulbs. Jack insisted this was called trimming the tree, but Lucifer was quietly certain that meant something else. Another string of lights had to go outside the house, and once Jack saw an inflatable reindeer on display at the store, they had to add that to the front yard too. They baked cookies and constructed tiny houses from gingerbread, all decorated with piped icing and various candies. Lucifer's cooking skills were largely limited to just enough to feed Jack, but if humans could do it, so could he, and after watching several videos on the internet, he managed to construct a respectable Christmas Eve feast. 

"All right," Lucifer said. "The tree is lit up and the presents underneath. We've got cookies for Santa and carrots for the crew. The halls are decked, and I'm pretty sure I just trussed the roast beef. Did I forget anything?"

"The stockings have to be hung!" Jack cried as he scampered towards the living room. "They have to be by the chimney."

"I'm pretty sure I already did that."

"With care!"

"I was careful." Lucifer followed after Jack but had to jump backwards to prevent a collision when a knock on the door diverted his son's attention. "Don't open the door without an adult," he called, and Jack skidded to a stop, waiting a few feet away for his father to catch up and answer the door. 

"Papa Cas!" Jack skipped by Lucifer and hopped forward to catch Castiel in a hug. 

"Hello, Jack." Castiel lifted the boy onto his hip and held up a large back with his other hand. "I brought presents for you."

"I got a present for you too. Daddy helped me wrap it, and we put a blue bow on it like your tie! But we gots to wait until morning to open presents, right, Daddy?"

"Well, I think it depends on--"

"Santa will leave his presents overnight, and we'll open them all in the morning."

"Santa?" Castiel echoed.

"Why don't you take Papa Cas' presents and put them under the tree. Arrange them all nice, okay?"

"Okay!" Jack had to hold the bag with both hands and peek over the top as he made his way back into the living room. 

"I didn't want to ruin it for him," Lucifer explained. "He seems... into it."

"You've certainly gone all out." Castiel looked around at the decorations. "Jack seems happy and healthy."

Lucifer crossed his arms over his chest and tilted his head. "You sound disappointed."

"Not disappointed. I'd never be disappointed about Jack's happiness. Just... surprised."

"I helped raise you," Lucifer pointed out. "I remember those soft baby wings."

Castiel squinted at Lucifer, but any protest died on his lips as Jack skidded back into the room. He grabbed Castiel's hand and tugged his arm to show him the Christmas tree. Then he wanted to show Castiel the stockings. They put snowman decals on the window, and Castiel needed to see that too. By the time Castiel had seen all the decorations, the house smelled like roast beef and spiced applies.

“You cooked?” Castiel’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. He seemed to be doing that a lot lately. 

“Yeah! Me and Daddy watched cooking videos on YouTube. I helped bunches, didn’t I?”

“The best helper in the world,” Lucifer said. 

Jack beamed. He settled into his seat and waited for his parents to heap his plate and fill his cup. The first bite was met with an enthusiastic “Mmm!” and once again, Castiel got that same surprised expression as he chewed his food.

“What? You thought it would be bad?” Lucifer asked. “I’m a little offended you didn’t think I could figure out cooking.”

“He probably just thought it would taste like moley-cubes,” Jack said. “Daddy says if you eat cheap food out of plastic, it tastes like moley-cubes, right?”

“Molecules,” Lucifer corrected gently, “but yes.”

“It is better than I was expecting.”

Castiel took another bite. He patted cranberry sauce across his potatoes, content to let Jack lead the conversation. Most of his talk was about Christmas and about Santa, and Jack gave Castiel the same answer he’d given Lucifer: Santa magic means you can’t tell. 

He chose _The Night Before Christmas_ for his bedtime story. Lucifer said he’d picked it every night for the past week, but Jack was quick to point out that this was different. Daddy and Papa were here to read to him, and so they did, Lucifer reading one page then Castiel the other, alternating back and forth until Jack’s even breathing turned to soft snores. They tucked his blanket around him, one on each side, then took turns kissing his forehead before leaving him to rest. 

“Thank you for letting me come,” Castiel said. “You’ve taken to a paternal role far better than expected.”

“I don’t really know what to say to that, so I’m just going to take it as a complement,” Lucifer decided. “You don’t have to run off right away, you know. You can stick around for a while, help me play Santa.”

“What does that entail?”

“Stacking presents, stuffing stockings, taking a few bites of cookies.” Lucifer shrugged. “The usual.”

“Is that what you usually do?” Castiel asked, but Lucifer just laughed. 

Lucifer had hidden a secret box of presents in his closet alongside several rolls of wrapping paper yet unused. He and Castiel sat with mugs of warm cider while they wrapped the gifts, and as they wrapped, they started to talk. First, they talked about Jack, about what he liked and what gifts they'd gotten him. Castiel had almost bought a new bicycle but then reconsidered thinking perhaps that was something Lucifer would like to give him. By the time he realized he wasn't sure whether or not Lucifer had gotten a bike, it was too late to get a good one. 

"You could have called and asked me," Lucifer pointed out.

"Yes, that... is an obvious solution now."

"I got one. Couldn't wrap it. It can be from both of us."

"Oh. That's kind of you." Castiel's brow furrowed, and he turned his focus to disguising his handwriting.

They wrote _From Santa_ on the tags while they talked about Christmas traditions, both agreeing that most of them were silly but that they would indulge Jack. Castiel admitted his surprise. He hadn't expected Lucifer to agree with him, and again, Lucifer reminded Castiel that Jack wasn't the first little one he'd taken care of. All the angels in heaven started their lives as fledglings though perhaps not quite so helpless as human children. Lucifer remembered when Castiel was first created. He remembered him learning to fly, and he knew about that incident with the fish. It turned out Castiel and Lucifer had spent time with each other in Heaven. For a while, they were even close. Those memories were long forgotten, and Castiel had thought them better left buried, but by the time the two were stuffing candy into the stockings, they were reminiscing fondly. Almost like friends, almost like brothers. 

"I suppose I should go," Castiel said as he took his coat from the back of the couch. "You'll tell me how it goes? How Jack likes his gifts?"

"That's one way to do it, but I think Jack would like to see you tomorrow. He'd like you to be here."

Castiel paused, one arm in the sleeve of his coat as he met Lucifer's eyes. "That would be nice. I could come back in the morning. I have to drive though because..." Castiel looked down, briefly ashamed.

"Kids don't like to wait." Lucifer crossed his arms over his chest. "You could just stay here overnight. I've got to figure out cinnamon rolls in the morning. You can help with that."

"I would like that," Castiel said.

They prepared breakfast for the next morning then returned to the living room to take a few bites from Santa's cookies and drink some of his milk. With nothing else to do, Castiel and Lucifer sat side by side on the couch with the last of the apple cider. Angels don't need to sleep, but somehow in that moment, they found a pleasant sort of exhaustion and closed their eyes to the sound of late night Christmas movies. 

Come morning, they awoke to the sound of a joyous whoop. Castiel startled from where he'd slumped against Lucifer's shoulder in the night, but Lucifer just rubbed his eyes, well used to Jack's enthusiasm. He was running in circles around the living room while still in his candy cane pajamas. 

"He came! He came!" Jack shouted, bouncing from the tree to the plate of cookie crumbs to the couch. "Daddy! Papa Cas! Santa came! He must have walked right by you."

"He must have," Lucifer said. 

"And he granted my wish!"

Castiel gave a puzzled look towards the assortment of presents. "How can you tell?"

Lucifer looked too. "You said it wasn't a bike."

"Not over there, silly." Jack jumped onto the couch and wiggled into the space between his parents. "It's here. I asked Santa to make you and Papa Cas be friends again so we can be a family. You are friends again, right?" 

Castiel looked to Lucifer and found the same question in his eyes. "We're more than friends," Castiel said. "We're brothers."

"And that means we're family?" 

"That means we're family." Lucifer tousled Jack's hair before he reached for Castiel's shoulder. "Come on, son, little brother. Let's see about those presents."


End file.
